Two Men Walk Into a Bar
by AvidReader4834
Summary: Bobby and Mike talk about the events during "Last Rites" and "Frame". And that leads to other conversations... Chapter 5 up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own LOCI, or these characters. Wish I did, but they belong to Dick Wolfe. Not making any money off of this, so please don't sue.

**Two Men Walk Into a Bar…**

When Bobby Goren walked into Peter J's and saw Mike Logan sitting at the bar, he almost turned around and walked out. He'd purposely sought a place where he wasn't likely to run into any cops – even his usual neighborhood hangout saw Patrick Copa and some of his cronies drop by occasionally.

After finishing the arrest of Declan Gage, Eames had suggested that they catch some dinner, but he had told her that he was tired, and just wanted to go home and sleep. He could see the hurt in her hazel eyes at his rebuff – _damn,_ _more hurt_ - but the stress of the last few days had raised too many emotions for him to process. He just wanted to drown out all thought – to just go numb. His time on suspension had made him an expert at how to go about doing that.

He'd heard that Logan was in trouble for doing an end-run around on the DA Terry Driver in order to get an innocent man out of prison. For some reason that he didn't care to examine too closely, he didn't find the thought of Mike's company unwelcome.

He walked up to the bar next to Logan, and ordered the cheap beer he'd gotten used to drinking since his finances took a dive.

Logan eyed him suspiciously. "What 're you doing here?"

"I wanted someplace quiet to have a drink. Or several. It's been that kind of a week."

Logan snorted. "Yeah, it's been that kind of a week." He took a hit off his own drink. "Sit down. Welcome to my home away from home."

* * *

A couple of beers, one hour, and a great deal of Rat Pack trivia later, Logan looked at him and said abruptly. "Was it worth it? Tates, I mean?"

Bobby took a swig of his beer while he thought out an answer. "What else was I gonna do, leave the kid in there? Close my eyes and pretend that the system would keep him safe?" He rubbed his eyes tiredly, thinking about his lingering nightmares, the sharp pain of Frank's betrayal, the long weeks of suspension, the rift in his relationship with Eames – _Eames_. "It cost me though. More than I ever thought."

"You think about leaving while you were suspended? Leaving the Job?"

"Yeah. I made some calls to friends of mine from the army, other places."

"Why didn't you?"

"Nothing seemed right. Or maybe… I just didn't want any more change. The… Job's been the only thing I've had for a long time."

"Yeah, " said Logan. "Me, too." He studied his drink. "You know, this priest, Father Shea – he told me I should get out. Said there was another world out there that I should check out."

"And…?"

"And I'm thinking that I'm 52 years old and haven't got much to show for my life. I've been thinking of all the women I let go over the years because the Job was so damn important… there was this little gal once, when I'd been over on Staten Island for about three years. Met her because she was the sister of the victim on my case. I was so hyped up because I thought that case was going to be my ticket back to the Big Leagues. I didn't give a damn that it was about her sister – didn't give a damn about the cops I had to send up to solve it – all I could see was that I had a way to get back on the Job. She saw through me – dumped me when she did."

"_Oh, I get it. You're the genius, and I just carry your water."_ Eames's bitter words rang through Bobby's head.

Logan continued glumly, "Don't even have someone to have a drink with. Falacci, Wheeler – they've got sense enough to have someone to go home to." He smiled sourly. "Well, Wheeler used to before I screwed that up for her."

"You di-didn't make her fiancée a money launderer. Do you think she'd rather not know?"

"Naw, I guess not. But I sure wish she hadn't found out about him because of me." Logan gazed at the mirror behind the bar without seeing anything.

Bobby's memory flashed back to Eames's stricken face, looking at the evidence from her husband's murder tacked up on a bulletin board. _"This isn't one of your puzzles, Bobby!" "Eames, you know we have to do this…"_

He toyed with his beer. "Yeah, I get that."

Logan must have thought he was being patronized, because he turned and gave Bobby a hard stare. At seeing the look on Bobby's face, Logan's expression relaxed. "Hey… what's going on with Nicole Wallace? Any leads?"

Bobby took a deep breath. "She's dead. She was killed by her partner, a-after she killed my brother."

Logan inhaled sharply. "You got a lead on the partner?"

"We arrested him. Declan Gage. My mentor. My... former friend. He sent Nicole after my brother, a-and then killed her after she'd done what he wanted. Set me up to look good for it. He thought I needed a good puzzle to get me back into the game."

_"What?!"_

"He's… sick. Degenerative brain disorder. Impaired judgment, loss of inhibition… Should have seen it, after hearing him talk about Jo…. No remorse, no- no sense of responsibility for what he'd helped her to become..." Goren trailed off.

"Oh, _man!_" Logan said. "OK, you win. Your week's been worse than mine. Next one's on me." He motioned to the bartender to give them another round.

* * *

Logan's brain latched onto something that Goren had said at the end of his revelation about Declan Gage. "Gage… he made you look good for it?"

"Yeah. The choice of victims… there was an insurance policy taken out on Frank that led back to me. Ross couldn't wait to get all over that", Bobby said, with a dark look.

Logan said confidently, "But not Eames, though."

Goren barked a harsh little laugh. "She investigated me thoroughly, like any _good detective_ would."

Logan dismissed the idea with a slightly unsteady wave of his hand. "Yeah, but Ross would've made her do that. Better it was done by someone who was watching your back than by someone who'd love to see you go down."

Bobby's mind flashed back to Eames' words from the day before. _"I was trying to clear you… You're being gas lighted!"_

He nodded, and said, "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. She looked out for me the best she could."

He remembered telling Ross, _"Nicole thinks… that Frank is all I have." _He remembered the guilt that he'd felt because once he knew that Nicole was targeting people around him, Frank's death had taken a back seat to another concern. He'd been desperately trying to make bargains that he didn't believe worked with a God he didn't think he believed in any more – _Don't let Nicole take Eames. Please, God, I'll do anything – just don't let her target Eames. _When it had looked like Donny was her next intended victim, he'd felt a slight, guilty twinge of – relief.

Eames had never really been on Nicole's radar. Declan, though… Declan had seen what had happened to Bobby when Eames had been taken from him. Declan _knew_ the place where Bobby was the most vulnerable. He and Eames had worked out how they'd play Declan before Declan had ever entered the room, but as Bobby watched Declan bait her his mind had silently screamed, _Leave her alone! LEAVE HER ALONE!! _But Eames had handled Declan with ease – proving yet again that she didn't need Bobby to save her.

She didn't really need Bobby at all.

Problem was - Bobby needed her.

He hadn't been entirely truthful with Logan. During the long weeks of suspension, it hadn't been the Job that he couldn't leave behind. It had been _Eames_ he couldn't leave behind.

* * *

"I don't deserve her," Bobby said softly.

He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud until Logan asked, "Who, Eames?"

"I'm just the..Whack Job she has to carry. You know, we caught this case last year – the perp had researched us – Eames and I. She told Eames that she'd never make Captain – that I'd hold her back. When I asked Eames if she worried about that, she told me that she used to. She said that now, now it was too late. And that was before Stoat, before I was the Rat as well as the Whack Job. That was before Tates, and the black mark she got on her record for backing up her Whack Job partner. That was before yesterday…" Bobby rubbed his hands over his face. "It's gonna get worse. All I'll do is drag her down. The decent thing to do would be for me to ask for a new partner. I should set her free."

A perplexed Logan asked, "Why would it be worse now? Seems to me you got the shaft this week. People are gonna see that."

"Oh, don't you know?" Goren turned a sardonic look on Logan. "Between Ross and his _girlfriend_ it should be all over 1PP by now."

Logan had the sense to say nothing. He just waited.

"My mother had an affair… with Mark Ford Brady," Bobby said wearily. "I had Rogers run a paternity test. He's my biological father. She told Ross about it. That's why he was so quick to look at me for Frank's murder, for Nicole's."

He looked at Logan defiantly, expecting to see the same judgment in Logan's eyes that he'd seen in Ross's. Logan just shrugged.

"For all I know, he could be my father too," Logan said. "I'd be lying to you if I said that it won't matter to anyone. But do you really think it matters to Eames?"

In his mind, Bobby pictured Eames' face, her eyes as she'd told him that he was being framed. He closed his eyes, and shook his head. "N-no, I don't think so. But there will be plenty of others who will see her as tainted if she doesn't let it matter."

Logan scowled. "Screw 'em." He took another hit off of his drink. "Do you honestly think Eames'll thank you for trying to decide for her who her partner should be? Seems to me that if she'd wanted to be rid of you, she could've done that easily enough."

Goren stared at the wooden surface of the bar. "I don't know why she stays."

Logan reached for a handful of peanuts. "Maybe you should ask her."

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer – see Chapter One. Thanks to all of you who took the time to review – it was so encouraging! Hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

* * *

Later on, they settled in at a booth with a couple of burgers and fries in a futile attempt to absorb some of the alcohol they'd been pouring down their throats.

Bobby had reached the point where he had no sense of pain – and no sense of caution either. He asked Logan, "So… what would you do if you left the Job?"

Mike finished chewing a mouthful of burger, and chased it with a hit off of his drink. "Oh, hell… I don't know. I've got my pension, but I'd go nuts without something to do. I thought about opening up a bar, like Pete," he waved a hand at the bar, where the bar's owner was tending to other customers. "But in the first place, I'm not sure tending bar is the best thing for the son of a drunk to do."

Bobby nodded ruefully.

"In the second place, I don't have the money to buy a decent place. My old partner Lennie would have said that it's because I spend too much of what I make drinking," Mike said with a lop-sided grin.

Bobby said, "Would you miss it? The hunt? The..high of catching the perp at the end?"

Mike sprawled back in the booth and sighed. "Feels like anything else would be as exciting as … eating tofu. I thought of going to work as a security guard – but when I picture the retired cops I've met who're doing that, it makes me shudder."

He leaned forward, and poked at his fries. "You know, I can handle the crap we see every day. The dumb kids that do something stupid to prove themselves to their gang, and get sent up to a joint that chews 'em into little pieces. The killings and crime done by stoners who are so far gone that they don't know what they're doin' any more. The crime done by people that are so full of their own shit that they don't care about what they're doing to someone else. I can clean that up, and at the end of the day feel like I've done something good, you know? "

"But lately… it just seems like it's not enough any more. It's like I don't know what to do with myself after I leave for the day – like I don't have anywhere to go. And there's always another pile of crap waiting for me the next day."

"And the politics drive me nuts!" He stabbed a french fry at Bobby for emphasis. "Knowing that you can put a perp away, and you're not allowed to do it because it's inconvenient for someone that matters! Watching innocent people put down because somebody's got a political agenda! That frustrates the _hell_ out of me!"

Bobby said, "Makes you want to punch a councilman."

There was a sudden, very loud silence. Bobby could have sworn he heard crickets chirping.

Mike said, "Or throw a millionaire off of a barge."

The two men stared at each other. Suddenly, they both burst out laughing.

Bobby thought, "_It's not that funny really_." But he still kept laughing until his sides hurt.

* * *

When they had both settled down again, Bobby said, "Ea-Eames deals with the politics better than I do. But it gets to her sometimes. When Deakins was forced to resign, she took it hard. We...we both did. We lost a good man because a bad cop had friends in high places."

Mike sighed again. "Yeah, Deakins. There's a real decent guy. Gave me a chance. It cost him though." He scowled.

Bobby said, "He made out alright. Opened his own security consulting company. When I've seen him, he says he's happy. Not so stressed."

Mike raised his glass. "To Deakins."

Bobby toasted in return. "To Deakins."

* * *

Later, as they were playing pool, Mike asked him, "When's your brother's funeral?"

Bobby looked down at his pool stick and said, "I don't know for sure yet. Maybe Tuesday." Truth was, he wasn't sure how he was going to make any kind of funeral arrangements for Frank without any money or unused credit.

"Let me know, or have Eames let me know. You going to take some time off?" Mike asked.

"I can't afford to, with all the time I've missed this year," Bobby said. "Which means that I get to face Ross again on Monday." He grimaced.

Logan shrugged, and leaned over to line up his shot. "Ross can be an ass, but he's backed you when it was important. If he had a real problem with you, he could have made you gone easily enough." He missed his shot, and Bobby moved around the table to line up his own.

"He did back me up, at Tates. But it was hard enough dealing with him when he was just annoyed that I didn't do things by the book, and second-guessed everything I did. It's going to be _so_ much fun dealing with him now that he thinks I'm a latent psychopath waiting to crack." He rolled his eyes.

"You've been hanging around Eames too long," said Logan. "Her snark's rubbed off on you."

The thought warmed Bobby, and he smiled a little.

* * *

All good things must come to an end. When closing time came, Pete let them hang around for a while longer since Mike was a regular – but after he finished cleaning up, he gave them a tired smile and chased them out.

As Bobby hailed his cab, Mike gave him a causal wave, and said "See ya Monday, Goren." Then he turned, pulled the collar of his coat up against the chill of the night, and headed down the block towards home.

TBC….


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer – see Chapter One. Sorry it's been so long since an update – that pesky real life! It keeps getting in the way. If you haven't seen "Purgatory", a lot of this isn't going to make sense. (Unresolved issues with Purgatory? Not me, nope, no way…)

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The alcohol helped Bobby to fall into some semblance of sleep. But when the nightmares that had visited regularly since Tates dropped in for their nightly visit, they came with a large cast of characters. Nicole, Frank, Declan, Jo – eventually, he tore out of sleep with a yell, drenched in sweat and shivering in the darkness of early morning. The grief, guilt and anger that he'd avoided feeling for a while last night rose up to greet him like old friends.

He took some aspirin for his hangover, and stood at the island in the center of his kitchen with a cup of coffee to try and think through how to get through the day. As much as he dreaded it, he knew he had to try and make some arrangements for Frank's burial. And that meant trying to find the money for it.

When it got to be a decent time of day, he opened his phone, and started dialing.

********************************************************************

Eames rang him before he was ready for her.

"Had breakfast?" she asked.

"Not yet," he said, warily.

"Well, I'm at your door. Buzz me up, and you can have some," she said, "but you'd better have the coffee on."

When he opened the door, he was greeted by sight of his partner carrying bags from one of his favorite delis. She didn't look like she'd slept really well either.

They busied themselves with breakfast sandwiches, pastries and coffee. Eames must have been feeling sorry for him, because she'd bought him one of his favorite fat-and-salt laden sandwiches, and she gave it to him without a single snarky comment.

"Have you made any arrangements for Frank yet?" Eames asked.

"I've got an appointment with the funeral home at 12:30", he told her. "I'm going to have him cremated, and bury his ashes with Mom. I'll put a small ground marker next to hers."

"Are…you OK as far as paying for it?" she said hesitantly. "I could…"

"It's fine," he said brusquely. "Lewis is floating me a loan."

"Oh," she said, very quietly. "I didn't mean to pry, I just wanted..."

He felt anger surge up from his belly like molten lava. Before he could stop himself, he snapped, "Well, after this week, you know the state of my finances as well as I do. The whole department probably does."

She flushed, and then gave him the full, patented Alex Eames glare. "That's not fair, Bobby! I told you I was trying to clear you, and I'm not going to keep apologizing for the next six months!"

He glared back. "Like I had to after going undercover without telling you? Tell me Eames, why didn't you call me and tell me I was being investigated? Maybe because you were _under orders_?"

His partner tried to speak once, then twice – but nothing came out. In all the time they'd been partnered, he'd never seen her at a total loss for words.

It didn't feel as good as he'd imagined it would.

The words continued to pour out of him, unstoppable. "Are you sure that Declan wasn't just a _little_ bit right? That you don't have just a _tiny_ bit of resentment left from the fact that I refused to go against orders and pull you into _another_ operation that could have done more damage to your career?"

"Wh…what do you mean, damage to my career?" she stammered.

Bobby flung back at her, "When I gave Ross the gun that Stoat had given me, I tried to back away from the whole thing. Ross told me that the Chief of D's insisted that I take the undercover work. That meant that I had to stay clean around a drug dealer - while still winning his trust. Piece of cake, right, Eames? Do you know how close I came to having to use to keep from having my cover blown? If I had, and I'd been pulled in for one of the department's routine undercover drug tests, I'd have been gone for good. That's exactly how Stoat got suspended in the first place. The alternative – well, you saw first hand what Testerossa did with people who got in his way."

He drew a shaky breath. "I thought the Chief of D's was setting me up to either get permanently fired, or get killed. If it had been a trap, and I'd told you about it against orders, you'd have been caught in it with me."

He laughed a mean little laugh – the kind he usually reserved for the interrogation room. "Ross told me I was being paranoid. I'm still not sure. The way that Stoat approached me, it felt – off, like a set-up. And Ross sent you and your nice, _stable_ temporary partner into that bust without telling you that there was anyone undercover in the operation. Not something you'd do if you wanted to protect the cop you had inside. If you were going to be angry with anyone, you should have been angry with him, not me."

Alex stared at him, her face as pale as paper. "Oh, I _was_ angry with him. Good and angry. But why didn't you tell me this months ago?" she asked.

Bobby's anger fizzled out as quickly as it had erupted, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water on it. Finally he said, "You… you were so angry with me already. You were barely speaking to me. I figured it would only make things worse, and all I wanted was to get us back to normal. I was willing to do anything to get to that. I didn't think it still bothered me."

"Well, I guess we both know what it feels like to be on the other side now, don't we?" his partner said, very quietly indeed.

He rubbed his hands over his face, ashamed. "I..I'm sorry, Eames. I didn't mean to go off on you. I know in my head that you had to... to rule me out. I'm just so mixed up right now." He looked at her, wearily. "I _am_ angry – at Declan… Frank… Nicole… Rogers, Ross – even my mom for ever being involved with Brady in the first place."

Eames was silent for a moment, and then said, "I'm sorry too, for making it so hard when you came back. I was just so hurt…" She broke off and looked down for a minute.

Just when he thought they'd gotten safely past the latest land mine in their partnership, she brought her head up and looked him straight in the eye. "But that's not the only thing you didn't tell me. Why didn't you tell me you'd had the paternity test done?" she asked. "You told Declan about it."

That was a question he'd _really_ been hoping she wouldn't bring up. But the way this week had gone, what was the likelihood of _that_ happening? He got up and fussed with getting another cup of coffee to stall for time.

"Do you… is it because you didn't think you could come to me after… after I got so angry with you when you came back?" The words sounded like she was forcing them out, afraid of what his answer might be.

"NO!" The vehemence of his answer surprised them both. "No," he repeated, more softly. "I just… I didn't want you to… I couldn't…."

"Talk to me, Bobby," Alex prodded him, after he'd stumbled to a halt. "It's important."

He sat back down, and took a breath. "I..I was afraid… I was afraid you'd see me … like so many other people do. That you'd be… you'd be afraid of me," he finished painfully.

"You didn't trust that I could handle it," she said, her voice breaking a little.

"I didn't want to… to lose you," he said in a low voice, looking at his hands. "I couldn't bear it," he whispered.

TBC….


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer – see Chapter One. Alex and Bobby are wrapping up their "discussion". OK – working out unresolved issues with a _lot_ of episodes here. "The letter" referred to is the one from ITWSH.

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Eames looked at him – and Bobby could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. Oh, _damn_! The last thing he'd wanted to do was make Eames cry.

"After all this time…. all we've been through… you still don't really trust me, do you?" she said shakily. "Is it… is it because of the letter…?"

"No! No," he said, shaking his head. "I.. I trust you more than anyone else in my life."

Eames deadpanned, "Given what most of the other significant people in your life have done to you, that's not saying much."

He wasn't nearly ready to have this conversation. He thought about smoothing the tense situation over with a superficial answer. Something along the lines of "It wouldn't have been right for me to put more of my troubles on you, yadda, yadda." It wouldn't fool her for a minute – but she'd either have to accept it, or call him a liar to his face. He'd opened his mouth to speak when his conversation with Logan from the night before came back to him.

"_I don't know why she stays." "Maybe you should ask her."_

Bobby surprised himself by saying, "I just… I could never figure out what makes you stay... what makes it worth putting up with me, and with everything that staying with me costs you. I... I remember what you said… in the courtroom after they made you read your letter... but after the last couple of years we've had, I just figured this would be the final straw."

The tears in Eames' eyes spilled silently down the side of her face – but a gleam of hot, bright anger quickly replaced them.

She stood up from the table like she had to move or explode. "I wish Declan Gage had never been born!" she hissed.

She took a deep breath. "You meant what you told Declan during the interrogation, didn't you?" she said evenly. "You really believe that, somehow, you were partly responsible for how you family treated you, don't you?"

He couldn't answer her. He could only stare helplessly at her, trying to brace for the storm that had come from out of nowhere.

"I would like to take your deadbeat father-or-whatever-he-was, and treat him to a nice, old school interrogation with a _phone book_!" Eames ground out. "I would like to post every lie, every con, every betrayal your lying, no-good, manipulative junkie of a brother _ever _did on the marquee in Times Square! And then I'd handcuff him to a lamp post, and make him _stand_ there while I pointed him out to every passer-by that read about what kind of _asshole_ he was!" She was almost yelling now. "I would like to tell your mother _exactly_ what I think about her ingratitude toward a son that showed her the kind of devotion most mothers only dream about!"

Wide-eyed, Bobby watched the avenging Fury that had taken the place of his partner stomp furiously back and forth across his kitchen floor.

Eames fumed, "I'd like to take Mark Ford Brady and gas him a second time! No, make that _three_ times! And as for Declan Gage… I… I… I can't think of something awful enough to do to him!" She folded her arms, and glared at the room in general. "But I'm sure my brothers could come up with something," she said darkly.

"Eames….?" said Bobby, very tentatively.

She fixed her gaze on him, and the anger left her face, replaced by a sudden determination. She came over to where he sat, and put her hands on the armrest on each side of his chair. "Look at me, Bobby," she commanded. Blind obedience seemed like the smartest option, so he tilted his head up to better meet her eyes.

"I stay because you're a good cop," she said slowly and deliberately. "You always do the right thing, even when what it's going to take to get it done means going against the Buddy-Boy system. You do that even when the thought of what's it's going to cost both us makes me cringe. Even when I get angry with you because of what it costs me personally, you don't back down. You make some really asinine choices for how to get the right thing done sometimes," she continued with a growl, "and you shut me out at the times when I could help the most - but you never stop trying. And that's the person I want as my partner – because I want to do the right thing too.

I stay because you're a good, decent man – and there aren't too many of those around. No matter how much you've been hurt, you haven't lost your compassion for other people. Even for people I'm more than ready to give up on.

I stay because being around you makes me a better cop and a better person. I stay because I feel like you're a partner and a friend that I'm privileged to have – and I want to be that kind of partner and friend for you. But I can't do that if you won't let me."

Eames _never_ deliberately touched him – but now, she took his face in her hands. When Declan had tried to do that the day before, it had felt like his skin would rot at the touch of Declan's hands. Eames' hands on his face made him feel – _cleansed_. He closed his eyes, and leaned into his partner's touch like a tired child.

"Look at me, Bobby," she repeated, softly now. He opened his eyes, and looked into hers again.

Eames said, "I've understood for awhile now why you find it hard to believe that someone else could actually appreciate you – actually want to be around you because they like _you_, not just what you could do for them. The things that happened this week alone would explain why you're always waiting for people to betray you. But _Declan_" - she spat the name out – "was right about one thing. The fact that those people couldn't appreciate how good of a man you are is…" - she enunciated each word slowly and precisely - "Not…Your…Fault."

"I get why you find it so hard to believe that I don't want to leave you, Bobby," she said. "If I could, I'd kick the ass of every person in your past who's broken your trust. But in seven years, haven't I given you a lot of reasons to trust me? I'm willing to be patient. I just need to know that trusting me is something you're at least _trying_ to do."

Bobby brought his hands up to cover hers, and eased her down to sit into the chair next to his. He looked down at their clasped hands. "I _do_ trust you, Eames," he said. "But it scares me to death sometimes, how much you matter to me. During your maternity leave, during my suspension, I didn't feel whole when you weren't there. The more I depended on you, the harder it was to – to tell you about things that would send most people running the other way. And I'm used to handling my personal life on my own – it's what I've always had to do."

"You opened up to Declan," she reminded him quietly.

He tilted his head, and gave her a ghost of smile. "Well, Declan isn't exactly a "normal" person, is he? Like me."

"You are NOTHING like Declan Gage," Alex said emphatically.

"Maybe not," he said, "but that's not how a lot of other people see it. Eames, I… we have to face the fact that staying with me does taint you. And as much as I don't want to lose you, I would handle it… I _will_ handle it if staying my partner means that it costs you what's important to you."

She tilted her head, and looked at him, puzzled. "Costs me? Costs me what?"

"It costs you the respect of your co-workers, for one," Bobby said in a low voice. "It's going to get worse now, when people find out Brady's my biological father. People are going to judge you if you don't step away, Eames," he said. "They already do."

His hands were still on hers, absently playing with her fingers. Her hands were soft and yielding in his, allowing him to move them about as he liked. As he listed all of the good reasons she should leave him behind, he couldn't seem to let go of her, unwilling to lose the comfort of the feel of her in his hands.

Alex said slowly, "I stopped worrying about being popular after high school. I spent a lot of years with a lot of people judging me because of what my Dad did. I had to decide a long time ago that I wasn't going to let other people's opinions run my life."

He looked up into her eyes again. "It also costs you every chance you have for promotion – for getting ahead," Bobby said. "You said yourself that it was too late for you to make up for the damage from the past seven years."

She winced at that. "I was pretty frustrated when I said that. You'd been so distant for so long. You didn't even tell me when you found out that your mother got cancer. I felt… shut out, like I was just some sort of hired help that you were dragging around to clean up after you. I wanted to hurt you a little."

It was Bobby's turn to wince.

Alex continued, "I told you when we first started working together that I didn't take this job to get noticed. But I used to worry that maybe I wasn't being aggressive enough with my career – that maybe I was settling for what came easy to me. Joe used to encourage me to go after promotions, you know? But the more I saw of the political games that Deakins had to play, the more I was sure that playing games with the Brass wasn't what I wanted to do for living.

It _is_ too late for me to go back to chasing after promotions again. But I don't really care. The work we did together – the bad guys we caught – we were so _good_ at it. We were so good _together_. That's what matters to me.

But I won't settle for anything less than being a full partner, Bobby – and that means letting me _be_ your partner. I know with everything that's happened to you that trusting someone is a lot harder for you than I can ever imagine. But if you can't find a way to do it, it's going to eventually destroy us," Eames said softly.

God, he was tired of being at odds with Eames. With all his heart, he wanted – needed - things between the two of them to be the way they used to be. He squeezed her hands gently. "I… I'll try Eames. I.. really want to try."

He squeezed her hands once more, and then let them go reluctantly. "I have to get ready to go to the funeral home," he said. He sighed, wearily. "I'm going have to apologize to Ross and Rogers on Monday, aren't I?"

"Yes, you will," Alex said. "Because I'm not running interference between the three of you for the next year." His partner got up and started for the door.

"Eames…?" Bobby said softly.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Would … would you come with me?" he asked.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer – see Chapter One. Thanks again to all of you who reviewed. It's better than warm cookies.

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Tuesday, the day of Frank's memorial service, was a perfect summer day.

Bobby stood in the back of Eames's house, stealing a few guilty minutes to smoke a cigarette. Eames had offered to host a lunch after the service. She'd pointed out that her home was closer to the funeral home where the service would be held than Bobby's apartment – and she had more room. He'd had to agree with her, even though he hated to put her to so much trouble. She'd at least let him help her to get the house ready for company – but today, her sister and sisters-in-law had descended upon the house to take care of the lunch itself, and there was nothing left for him to do except talk to the guests.

He'd found his mind wandering while the rent-a-minister recommended by the funeral home had conducted the simple and brief service. As always, when it came to Frank, his gut twisted with a host of conflicting emotions – sorrow at the waste of all that Frank could have been, anger at Frank's lies and betrayals, and grief at the loss of the brother of his youth, who had sometimes been an ally in the confusing and dangerous world their parents had created. The memory of his last bitter words to Frank filled him with shame. The knowledge that Frank's death had been caused, not by one of Frank's own enemies or addictions, but because Declan and Nicole had wanted to strike out at him, made him physically ache all over.

The back door hinge squealed as it opened, and Mike Logan came out into the yard.

"Eames sent me to look for you," he said. "You'd better not let her catch you smoking. The whole squad knows how she feels about that."

Bobby sighed, dropped the cigarette, and ground it out with his toe. "If she sent you out here, she already knows," he said.

"You destroy the evidence, and I'll provide you with an alibi," Logan said, with an attempt at lightness.

"What's it going to cost me?" said Bobby.

"You buy a round at Peter J's," Logan said. "See, I can be bought, but I'm not cheap." He put his hands in his pockets, and gazed around Eames's small back yard. "She's got a nice place."

Bobby said, "Yeah. I wasn't sure she'd keep it after… after the kidnapping." His face clouded.

Logan looked at him thoughtfully. "Everything OK between you two? It must be if she's willing to do this."

"Yeah, it's good," said Bobby. It _had_ been good the last couple of days. He and Eames hadn't spent much time together outside of work in the last two years, and having her close by had comforted him in ways he couldn't begin to count. He was beginning to feel that the return of the easy connection they'd once had might actually be possible.

"That's good," said Logan. "The two of you make a good team. You didn't try and talk her into getting a new partner, then."

"Actually, I did," Bobby said. "Lucky for me, she refused."

"So… did you ask her why she stays?" Logan asked curiously.

"I did. It… cleared the air on some things. I think it helped."

"Well, how about that?" Logan said, and chuckled. "I not only got a chance to be the calm, logical partner this year, but I've become an expert on relationships as well. This must be my year - I'd better start playing the lottery."

Just when Bobby was thanking his lucky stars that Logan was going to avoid probing into his conversation with Eames any further, Logan asked, "So what did she say?"

"It's because of my winning charm and gracious personality," deadpanned Bobby. "Not to mention the fact that I'm so easy to get along with. What else would it be?"

Logan got the hint, and said easily, "If her loyalty was based on charm and personality, she'd be _my_ partner. Come on – let's get back inside before Eames sends someone out looking for both of us. Then Wheeler and I have to head out – we caught a new case." Logan's grin faded at the prospect of returning to work, and weariness washed over his face. Even through his own unhappiness, Bobby could see that Logan was approaching burn out fast – and for a cop, that was always a dangerous place to be.

"Thanks for coming, Mike," he said to Logan. "And... thanks for the company the other night."

"Don't mention it," said Logan, with a smile, and clapped him on the shoulder.

The two men went back inside, and Bobby scanned the guests that were milling about, talking and eating. They were beginning to thin out a little.

Elaine - Donny's mother - had come, and a few people from the church where Frank had gone for food and help on occasion. A few more had come from the NA meetings that Frank occasionally attended. Most of the people here were Bobby's friends, and people from work. He'd downplayed the service when he'd told people about it, saying that it was going to be very brief – but several of his co-workers had come anyway. He'd noted resignedly that there weren't as many of them as there had been at his mother's funeral –his "betrayal" of Mike Stoat during his under-cover operation had left its mark.

His gaze fell on Rogers, as she stood talking to one of the other Detectives from his squad.

He'd always liked Rogers. Her brusqueness didn't bother him. He'd always thought that they shared a mutual respect for the dead, and a lack of squeamishness at handling the transformation of the human body as it went along it's inevitable return to the dust from which it came. He trusted her bluntness and honesty, which was why he'd gone to her when he'd decided to have the paternity test done. Her betrayal of his confidence had hurt bitterly.

He hadn't been sure he'd be able to face her without losing his temper all over again. When he'd talked it over with Eames on Sunday, she'd told him, "I don't blame you for being angry with her – but you frightened her, Bobby. You're a big man, and you were throwing things around the room, out of control. She was so scared she called for help. Do you really want her to be afraid of you?"

He really didn't.

On Monday, he'd made himself go to see Rogers before going upstairs to work on the 11th floor. He knew that she was usually in before any of the other ME's.

He'd been in luck (or not, depending on how you looked at it), and she'd been alone in the morgue. He'd stopped at the doorway, knocked on the doorframe, and she'd eyed him warily.

"I want to apologize for last week," he'd said quickly. He'd given her a second to think that over, and then added, "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Rogers had said. She'd stood with her arms crossed, and apparently she had found something on the floor absolutely fascinating.

He'd gone in, but kept his distance, not wanting to crowd her. He'd begun, "I…I shouldn't have… scared you like that. I wouldn't…"

She'd blurted, "I'm sorry I told him about the test."

He'd felt his anger beginning to rise. _"Take it easy, take it easy…"_ he'd thought to himself, and reeled the anger back in. He'd said very carefully, "Why did you?"

Rogers had said, "I was… concerned."

"Concerned," he'd repeated scornfully.

She'd looked up at him, and leaned back against a nearby coroner's table. "Look," she'd said, with something close to her usual asperity. "For as long I've known you, you've always respected evidence. Some of the other detectives – if the evidence is inconvenient, if it means they've got the wrong suspect, or that they're going to have to work harder to close a case, they'd rather not know about it. They _resent _it. A few of them will even try and hide it.

You don't do that. You keep prodding and poking for all the evidence you can find until all of it adds up to something that makes sense.

But that day, when I told you that it was Nicole Wallace's heart that you'd found… you were… irrational. You know as well as I do how final a DNA test is when it's performed right – and you've never questioned my competency before. But you refused to believe the evidence in front of you. You wouldn't listen to Alex – you wouldn't listen to anybody. I've never seen you behave like that before.

You'd just found out that your brother had been murdered, and that maybe your friends were next on the list. Only weeks before, you'd found out that the man that you thought was your father … wasn't. The man who _was_, was the last person on earth you'd want to claim as a father. So… I was… concerned," Rogers had concluded.

"You thought I'd lost it," Bobby had said, grimly.

"Yes," Rogers had said bluntly. "And you carry a gun. If you were having a break down or something, you were a danger to yourself and to other people. I had to let the Captain know something was going on with you, no matter what I promised. However," she'd continued with some hesitation, "I… I acted too soon. I should have thought it through, maybe talked to you first. Although handling situations like these isn't exactly what I do best," she'd concluded crossly. "I told you – there's a reason I work with the dead."

He'd had to smile a little at that.

Rogers had repeated simply, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Bobby had said. "Are we good?"

Rogers had said, "Yeah. But I'm still going to smack you if you mess around with my corpses."

Bobby smiled faintly at the memory, and scanned the rest of Eames's living room. He spotted Ross over by the coffee set up in the dining room. Ross's presence didn't surprise him that much. Ross was, after all, a by-the-book cop who did his duty, and he would see being here as his duty to one of his detectives. Bobby had given a stilted apology to the captain on Monday, and had gotten the impression that Ross was as uncomfortable during the meeting as he was.

Ross had said defensively, "You can be upset with me for treating you as a suspect if you want, Goren. But look me in the eye and tell me that you wouldn't have done the same thing if you'd been me. Tell me that you _haven't_ done the same thing, and investigated someone you've known personally."

As much as Bobby hated to admit it – Ross had a point. However, he didn't think he'd be sharing that thought with Ross anytime soon.

But in the end, Ross had insisted that Bobby take yesterday and today off to handle the funeral arrangements and service, telling him not to worry about what he had left in comp time. Since Eames was taking the two days off as well, Bobby had agreed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a touch on his shoulder, and he turned to see his former captain, Jimmy Deakins, standing next to him with a compassionate look on his face.

"I'm going to be heading out, and wanted to say goodbye," said Deakins. "Again… I'm really sorry about your brother."

"Thanks for coming," Bobby said, with genuine warmth, and the two men shook hands. "I appreciate you taking time out of your day for this. Are things still going well for you?"

"They're terrific," said Deakins. "I won a new contract, and I've got more work now than I can handle."

Deakins' face suddenly got an expression that Bobby remembered well – it meant that he'd had just figured out how to handle a tricky problem. Jimmy continued slowly, "I'm to the point where I could use more help. Don't suppose that you and your magic gut would be interested in a career change…?"

Bobby hesitated for a moment. With everything that had gone on this year, particularly in the last few weeks, the thought of being able to start completely fresh _was_ appealing. He liked and respected Deakins – Deakins had always understood him, and had given enough him room to work the way that he needed to.

But just past Deakins' shoulder, he could see Eames talking with Mike Logan. His eyes were on her as he replied, "It's tempting. But, no, I don't think I want any more change in my life right now."

Deakins turned his head to see what Bobby was looking at, and turned back to Bobby with a knowing smile on his face. "_Damn,_" Bobby thought. Deakins had always been able to see more than sometimes he was comfortable with. Bobby schooled his face to show nothing, and continued, "Let me know when you have another opening though. Things can change."

Deakins said, "I'll do that. I'd welcome the chance to work with you again. It was an honor to work with all of you."

An idea popped up in Bobby's head, and he turned to gaze at Eames and Logan again, this time focusing on Logan. "Maybe there's another option you should consider," he said thoughtfully to Deakins.

TBC


End file.
